


suite of first love

by nishanightray



Series: RTMO Week 2018 [1]
Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: First Kiss, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, POV Third Person, Pining, RTMO Week 2018, pov ritsu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 13:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14402898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishanightray/pseuds/nishanightray
Summary: They say that the first love is the one you'll never forget - the one that will forge you.For Ritsu, the first love has the bitter taste of the purple flowers growing in his chest.(or, Ritsu gets the hanahaki disease because of Mao and doesn't know what to do with his feelings.)RitsuMao Week 2018, day1 - firsts





	suite of first love

They say that the first love is the one you'll never forget - the one that will forge you.

  
For Ritsu, the first love has the bitter taste of the purple flowers growing in his chest.

  
.

  
It doesn't come as a surprise -not really.

  
Mao's the only kid he's ever cared about, so those feelings have always been there; they've only started budding now because he's reached his adolescence, his spring of life, and because something akin to jealousy has started prickling his chest, too. Jealousy and affection grow inside him at the same time, twining about his bones like wild vines, filling his lungs with purple lilacs. Someday they'll surely block his throat and hurt his vocal cords; what a pity, to never be able to sing again! Music is his only pride. He'll lose his voice, along with the ability of sweetly calling Maa-kun's name.

  
He wonders if Mao's ever experienced it -the bitter taste of flowers on your tongue, opposite to candied nicknames and glace childhood memories; but he looks so far away right now, surrounded by colored lights and laughters and fated comrades. He looks so happy and the brilliance of his smile makes Ritsu fall deeper in the pit of this love.

  
.

  
Time doesn't heal anything; his unfair illness only gets worse.

  
Whenever he sees Mao smiling by the side of others, be it Trickstar or the students' council, his chest is about to burst with loneliness and longing. He should be satisfied with being a special existence to Mao, the only one who can make him lose his usual cool -it's always been enough, having Mao looking after him, spoiling him as much as he claims he doesn't want to.

  
But thorny thoughts pin him to the wall, and his heart stings with pain as the sudden knowledge that he's not Mao's top priority dawns on him. There are many people who depend on Mao now, and Ritsu himself has people to look after -a troublesome, serious junior and a disappeared, uncrowned king. They're not children moving in a small world anymore. Trickstar have started building a path of light and radiance, a world that's complete with four people, five at most.

  
Mao seems to have moved to a secret garden, guided by the song of birds through a hidden door that Ritsu can't find. He cannot enter what he hasn't got the key for.

  
He starts dreading the day Mao will stop coming to his house every morning to wake him up, or the day he will tell him not to call him 'Maakun' anymore.

  
.

  
It's quite ironic how the people he wants to be understood by the most always end up being the people who understand him less.

  
But he doesn't want to hate Mao. Even as he bursts and yells at him that he hates him, even as he lets anger and jealousy seep through stinging words, like a poison...

Ah, he'd much rather eradicate this plant along with these feelings, at the cost of his entire existence.

  
Perhaps he's being melodramatic about it, but what's more tragic than something pretty like a flower be the reason of your young departure?

  
.

  
Just as he starts to let go, though, Mao comes back to him and pleads him not to disappear on him. He doesn't give him the key to that private garden, but he opens his heart to Ritsu instead. It should be more than enough, and yet Ritsu still wants more -more than the radiance of a stage, he wants the burning heat of his touch.

  
But he doesn't know how to tell him, nor does he know what to do with these feelings that still seem out of place.

  
.

  
Since the king's returned, their group has finally begun to come together; more than friends, it's become something like a family. Ritsu doesn't dislike the warmth of the kotatsu they share, nor the sight he can only see when he's on stage with them.

  
To protect this little world of their own, Ritsu carries on with an unsheathed sword, ignoring the burning pain in his throat...

  
Until one day it all becomes too much -a stab of pain brings him to his knees, bends him in two with such a violence he fears his body may be about to break; then he starts coughing out blood mixed with fresh leaves and buds, petals dripping out of the hands he's brought to his mouth. His comrades pat him on the back, yell out his name, but nothing seems to reach him anymore. Everything goes suddenly white in front of his eyes, and he collapses on the spot.

  
.

  


  
He dreams of setting fire to a flower field and staring at the smoke of his first love burning out. Then a figure appears behind the smoke, a hand stretches towards him and a voice resounds, stronger and clearer than any song he knows.

  


  
.  
  
  
  
  
"...Ritsu... Ricchan...!"

  
When Ritsu opens his eyes, Mao's there for him, clutching at his hand tightly, as though he hopes to bring him back with the sheer force of desperation. The childish nickname almost automatically forms on Ritsu's lips; however, when he tries to call him, he discovers that his throat feels parched and uncomfortably dried up. Even without him saying anything, Mao somehow gets it and rummages through his bag to hand him a bottle of water. Ritsu accepts him without a word and slowly sits up -they must have brought him to the infirmary. What happened to the concert, to his comrades? He can't bring himself to ask; it's terrifying how much it still hurts to breathe. The cold water is enough to make his insides squirm and sting, but he doesn't stop drinking until he finally feels his throat clearing up.

Mao stares at him the whole time, and his fixed eyes makes him so rattled he ends up choking on the water and cough it out.

  
"Ricchan?!" Mao moves closer in an instant, putting the bottle away with one hand and slowly, softly massaging his back with the other.

  
"Hmm... It's... okay..." Ritsu manages to say, relieved to not see any trace of blood on the sheets.

  
He jumps out of his skin as Mao suddenly grabs him by his shoulders, seemingly forgetting that an ill person should be given the white-glove treatment, and yells at him: "What part of this is okay?!"

  
It's the first time Ritsu's heard him sounding so genuinely scared. The skin surrounding his eyes is soft and reddened, almost livid, and his cheeks look weirdly humid. Mao stares at him with wide eyes filled with fear and loneliness and something Ritsu can't quite understand, but at least he kind of gets what Mao is going on about.

  
"It's... really okay, Maa-kun. It's just the water," he says, not knowing what else to say.

  
Mao doesn't look persuaded at all. He shakes him by his shoulders, making him feel a little dizzy.

  
"But you coughed out flowers before!" He says, voice laced with stubborness and worry. Ritsu blinks at him. Since Mao's here with him, he's already figured out that the cat's out of the bag. He's collapsed in the backstage and is now in the school infirmary, after all. Surely his friends from Knights all know already, too -by now they've probably connected the points.

  
_So what more do I have to say?_

  
"You never told me!"

  
_How could I?_

  
Mao lowers his eyes, looking sullen for reasons Ritsu can't fathom.

  
"...is it someone I know? Like, Sena-senpai, or...?"

  
_Why does Secchan's name come up here?_  Everything's turning kind of tragicomic, it almost makes him laugh.

  
"How can you still not get it...?" The words are out of him before he can control himself. If he's already going to die, though, it might be alright to finally come out and say it -if only to wipe off that surprised expression from Mao's face.

  
"No other kid would bother himself with me, you know, Maa-kun. Only you," he says, with a bitter smile. "You've always been the only one for me, then and now."

  
Saying it doesn't give him any relief. Mao still looks stupidly shocked, although it's not anything to be surprised at. Ritsu shakes his hands off him and fakes a long yawn, starting to snuggle back under the sheets as a way of retreat. 

  
"Well, Maa-kun, I'm still tired, so-"

  
"That doesn't make any sense!"

  
He makes him jump again, like a cat whose tail's been stepped on. Mao really should know better than treat an ill person like this -he's about to tease him about it, but he finds himself swallowing the words as his world suddenly spins around and upside-down, stealing aways his breath. The back of his head is pressed against the pillow, trembling fingers squeeze his thin wrists, pinning them to the sides of his head, and Mao's hair and breath tickle his cheeks. Something warm flickers on his lips like a spark, threatening to light up a fire inside him.

  
Mao lifts himself up and looks down on him with his whole face burning, a red flush spreading even to his ears and neck. Ritsu blinks up at him, blushing as soon as he realizes that his first kiss has just been not-so-gallantly stolen.

  
"M-Maa-kun?!" He stutters, because it's not like Mao at all, to lose his cool like this. In different circumstances, Ritsu would be flattered with the knowledge that he can still rattle him so much, but right now everything's so confusing, even shattering, that he doesn't know how to voice out what he feels.

And so, before he can even say anything at all, he finds himself pressed again against the mattress. A small gasp leaves his throat, then he sighs -he could easily lets himself go, leaving Mao to decide on the pace, on the depht of the kiss. It's not sweet, but a different kind of bitterness, like burnt, salted caramel -still, it might become terribly addicting. He really is setting fire on the flowers inside of him, after all, turning them into ashes one by one, until nothing is left, not even a thorn.

  
Mao sighs and presses their foreheads together, but Ritsu doesn't open his eyes yet. He wants to bath in this heat.

  
Mao quietly lets go of him. Ritsu still keeps his eyes closed. Just one more moment.

  
"Ricchan," Mao whispers, "Ritsu."

  
Those names both belong to him; hearing them called in such a sweet way works out like a spell. He opens his eyes.

  
Mao, sitting up beside him, rummages into his hoodie, holds out his fist towards him and softly opens his fingers, revealing a white little blossom.

  
.

**Author's Note:**

> \- hanahaki disease is a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love (for real, or bc they think it is); it ends when the beloved returns their feelings.
> 
> \- purple lilacs mean 'first love' in the flowers' language; Mao's white flower is primrose, that means 'childhood'.


End file.
